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... . His muscles contorted, mana and blood seeped into the floor under his collapsed body, while his weight left no marks on the ground. Everything was in the color of blood and tinges of gold.

Death was always gradual as far as Razmund was aware. He didn't mind seeing the results of his actions and slashes. He wasn't feeling his pain, or what Zao was thinking.

But he did see how the life seeped out of this being of rich history. He had known nothing about him, yet he killed him.

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